


It's been a long road

by Nilaza



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Axxila is not a nice place, Banter, Drugs Mentioned, Established Relationship, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Retirement, Sex, Warning: starvation mention, dying of starvation mentioned
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-12
Updated: 2018-05-06
Packaged: 2019-01-16 12:10:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,803
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12342450
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nilaza/pseuds/Nilaza
Summary: Veers and Piett decide to retire to Axxila after Endor.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Please note starvation warnings.  
> Of course, the title is taken from [Faith of the Heart](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=B0azMOJ-h_o) \- Star Trek Enterprise's theme.

It was the best option, Piett told himself as the shuttle touched down in Axxila’s main spaceport, and he felt the first whiff of hot, bone-dry air as the door opened. He hadn’t been here since he was in his late twenties; he’d left for a brighter future in the Imperial navy, barely keeping himself from jumping in joy the whole way to the shuttle.

He never would have thought he had to come back. Without Veers, who visibly steeled himself against the heat by his side, it would have been out of the question. He kept telling himself it wouldn’t be the same, the famines were gone, the pirates were gone. It was a better world now. 

Endor had been a disaster; Lord Vader and the Emperor had been killed, DSII defeated. The remaining Imperials had fought valiantly and fiercely for a couple of years, but the fight had drawn out and they had been locked in a stalemate. A core fraction of the Empire had formed the First Order, and most of the other Imperials wanted nothing to do with them.

Neither Veers nor Piett were impressed either. An armistice had been formed with the New Republic who used most of its resources opposing the First Order, and couldn’t handle a war on two fronts. Old Imperials who hadn’t committed serious war crimes or continued opposition could slip into obscurity. Thus, they decided for early retirement, funded by their mutual tiny savings and a little under-the-radar support from the New Republic. Piett had the distinct feeling they were trying to buy themselves less trouble.

Axxila it was, and before they landed, Piett had made living arrangements for them. His sister had died, and the little shop with the flat on top she’d owned had been sold off. He had no idea where his nephew was. Many former Imperials were still MIA, probably never to be found. Zevulon Veers was also amongst them, and Piett and Veers never talked about it. Piett had an inkling it was too painful for Veers to do so; Veers and his kid hadn’t spoken for almost two decades, and as far as Piett knew, Zevulon was his only remaining family.

Aside from being Piett’s home planet, Axxila had the advantage of being well out of the way, unlike Denon for example, and the New Republic could better ignore old Imperials there.

The little flat he and Veers could afford was in the mid-levels of the town, a bit bigger than his quarters on the Executor had been, but it was enough for the two of them.

“Well,” Veers said, after a brief tour of their two-room flat. “This is going to be strange, sleeping without the possibility of being woken at a rude hour due to some crisis.”

Piett had lived on the fleet, save for his few leaves, since he’d left Axxila at age 27, and he had been satisfied with that. But the last time Veers had had a home, it had been on Denon, with his family, and Piett was sure he was reminded of it now.

“Yes,” he chuckled, “but it also means less chance of our shagging interrupted.” To be fair, it had happened very rarely, on one spectacular occasion by Lord Vader himself suddenly standing in the Admiral’s door. It was never mentioned thereafter.

“Indeed, we can count on pounding each other senseless every night,” Veers said and stepped up to kiss him.

“We’re not scheduling our sex, Max, there’s nothing less erotic,” Piett protested. Over the years they’d been together, they’d both found out quickies in odd places were entirely too stimulating for both their dignities. Luckily, nobody had ever caught the Admiral and the General pounding in a supply locker. It had been a little too close for comfort a few times, though.

There was nothing in the flat save what little they’d brought, and a mattress in the bedroom that Piett would have preferred throwing out wearing protective gloves. Veers uttered a very undignified sound when a spider the size of the dirt-pounder’s foot crawled out from under it. Piett killed it quickly with his blaster, and the look on Veers’ face when he jokingly suggested it for dinner was priceless. Fussy Coreworlders, it wouldn’t be the strangest thing Piett had eaten.

The mattress was disposed of, and they went on to clean the floors and the kitchen. Luckily, the previous owner appeared to have taken care of the flat, so it didn’t take long. Piett had agreed to cook the first night, one bit of Axxila he had missed was a vegetarian spicy soup. It was served all over the galaxy, but nobody made it the way an Axxilan did, and he looked forward to trying it on Veers.

“Spicy soup?” Veers questioned. “Of all things, I wouldn’t have thought that to be a special Axxilan dish.”

“Three things used to be aplenty on Axxila: whores, spice and seasoning. Now it’s just whores and seasoning,” Piett said, “and since I don’t need whores anymore, you will not rob me of seasoning!”

“Oh, that’s why you brought me with you, I suppose, to spare your wallet the prostitutes,” Veers remarked.

“Excatly!” Piett nodded, grinning at him. “All the more money to use on actual flavour.” Piett had a hard time complaining about food; as long as there was something to eat, one should feel grateful. But he did often think that food the rest of the galaxy found ‘spicy’ was often terribly bland.

While Veers took it upon himself to make the bedroom fit for sleeping later, Piett went out to buy groceries. It was not the neighbourhood he had grown up in; calling that a ‘neighbourhood’ would be too high a praise, ‘slum’ would be more accurate, but it still had the distinct Axxilan air to it. A sense of lurking danger, one or two smashed streetlights, graffiti, the scent of something illegal being smoked inside a flat. He didn’t like it, but his twenty-year-old self would have scoffed mockingly at his Coreworlder sensibilities. 

The store was not far from their flat, and to his surprise, he found it well-stocked. The Empire’s influence seemed to have remained. Nobody talked about famines in the queue, and nobody was hoarding food. Piett had a hard time not doing it, but he controlled himself.

Annoyed that he had apparently not changed that much in the many years he’d been off-planet, he lit a cig once back on the street. He didn’t like the idea of running back to Veers with his pants in a twist. It would be beyond the pale. Inhaling deeply and trying to enjoy the warm air, he forced himself to stroll back to the apartment, the knots in his stomach and shoulders relaxing one by one. Vigilance was one thing, and important; fear was another.

But the street was almost empty and seemed ominous despite the streetlights, the buildings towered over him, and the light pollution made seeing the stars impossible. He was going to miss them. He was also going to miss the Executor’s hallways, the everlasting hum of her engines.

The hairs on his neck lay flat again, and he felt the heavy, comforting shape of his blaster against his hip. The cig helped too. There was no bloody reason to be this jumpy. He stomped out the cig butt before climbing the stairs, and the rest of the unease vanished when he heard Veers’ singing quietly from the bedroom once inside.

He couldn’t help smiling as he began preparing their dinner. He had never really experienced domesticity, but he reckoned this was how it felt like, listening to one’s partner in the other room, being together but each in his own place. Hutt’s bollocks, he was getting mushy, and he hadn’t even been drinking anything today. Shaking his head, he unloaded and began preparing.

 

”Oh will you stop complaining, it was hardly flavoured,” Piett ordered, looking at Veers with exasperation and amusement. Veers had seemed to like the first few mouthfuls of soup, even complimenting it, but also noting it was a bit on the spicy side, and drinking several glasses of water and eating bread like a total lightweight. It turned to more and more drinking water and less and less eating soup, until Veers gave in, red-faced and uncomfortable. Piett was extremely tempted to tell him he had made the less spicy version, and call him a wuss.

Veers groaned and shot him a glare from his position on the newly-assembled couch. He was still red-faced and sweat plastered his white hair to his head. He lay curled up, face contorted in a grimace. “Then why do my insides feel like they’re on fire?”

“Because you’re a bloody lightweight, dear,” Piett said dryly. He leaned back into his armchair.He broke into a grin he couldn’t suppress anymore. In all honesty it had been the mildest flavoured soup Piett had ever tasted on Axxila, Veers had suggested they didn’t add any seasoning at all when he poked his head into the kitchen to have a look, but Piett refused to live on anything akin to navy rations. “Not much “Iron Max” about you right now.”

That earned him a pillow hurled at his face. “Your stomach must be made of stone, just like your heart. I am suffering.”

Piett managed to bat the pillow away with an arm, and it fell to the floor with a soft thump. He rolled his eyes and rose with a sigh. “I’ll get you some milk, you weakling.”

“You didn’t think I was a weakling when I ravished you in bed last night, shrimp. And it will happen again later,” Veers threatened.

“Not with you in that state. You can hardly hit me with a pillow, much less my loading ramp with your blaster.” Piett blew him a kiss, and walked through to the little kitchen.

Outside light fell though the little, uncovered window. Muffled sounds from a now busy street below penetrated the glass too. Piett took the milk from the fridge and poured a glass, he had even added some in the soup to balance the spicy flavour. He snorted again, but admittedly, one had to get used to a lot of things about Axxila, beside the acid rain and the nasty streets. And the spiders. Luckily the famines were a thing of the past.

Piett remembered how it felt like going hungry to bed for the fourth or fifth night in a row, and he ate when there was food available. Sometimes, Veers complaining set his teeth on edge; they had food and there was enough. Even now, standing in his own kitchen, with a full fridge and a full belly, the ghost of hunger pains stabbed through his stomach. He fisted his hands as the memories came back; it was the middle of summer, and he was about ten years old. His younger sister was crying weakly on the worn bed, and Piett himself felt dizzy with the lack of food. His youngest sister had died that morning,, four months old, and nothing but skin and bone. His parents buried her in the little, dried out back yard. They weren’t the only family who lost children.

With cold shivers running up and down his spine, and annoyed at himself, Piett slammed the fridge door closed to get rid of the memories, and stomped back to Veers.

Veers was upright on the couch, still sweaty, but looked a bit more comfortable. Piett handed him the glass in silence.

“Thank you.” Veers looked closely at Piett. “You were out there for some time, what is wrong?”

“Nothing. Drink up and stop complaining,” Piett snapped. Which only made Veers frown more. Piett probably looked pale and shaken, too. Damn it, he thought. Why couldn’t he just get a grip, and why did Veers had to be so kriffing quick to spot when something was off? If this poodoo was about to continue, returning to Axxila began looking like a bad idea.

While Veers gulped down the milk, Piett turned to tidy up the table, hoping to regain his composure. But the sound of cries, and the small, sickly corpse refused to leave his memory. The feeling of desperation and hunger lingered.

Big hands were placed on his back, kneading his shoulders lightly. “Firmus…” Veers said, and there was such care and tenderness in his words, it was all too damn much.

“Max, I don’t need cuddling,” Piett protested, but he didn’t move away. Veers’ hands were warm and pleasant and strong, and the massaging movements touched deep on sore, tense muscles. ‘ it felt so bloody good.

“I know there must be a lot of bloody nasty stuff coming back to you here, but most of it is gone, the famines, the pirates. The latter mainly because of you,” Veers rumbled.

“I know,” he said through clenched teeth. It didn’t bring back the dead, and it didn’t banish the memories.

Veers gently pulled him in, and Piett was enveloped in a warm, cuddly hug. He tensed up for a second, but allowed himself to lean in and be embraced. Even hid his face in the big dirt-pounding berk’s chest. Sweet stars, being in Veers arms did make it better, not that he would ever admit it aloud, though he was sure Veers was well aware. Piett’s heart slowly calmed, as did his breath. Veers’ smell of aftershave and his warm hands rubbing his back pulled him out of the past and grounded him in the present.

The famine-plagued summer day more than thirty years earlier disappeared, and he was in his husband’s arms, in their flat. It was late evening and they were well-fed and would be again tomorrow. After a few minutes, Piett pulled back, a smirk on his lips. “Since you had the gall to complain about my cooking, you can do it tomorrow. I will do my best to stomach it.”

Veers snorted. “Sailor, the one time I cooked for you during that leave, you practically orgasmed at the table.”

Piett blushed furiously. “Are you so sure I was making sounds of pleasure and not discomfort?”

“I’ve made you actually come on tables, and other furniture, far too often to mistake the two,” Veers said with a self-satisfied grin.

Piett leaned up to kiss him, and Veers again pulled him close, running his fingers through Piett’s thin hair, kissing him tenderly.

Piett kissed him deeper, brushing their tongues together, until he felt the warmth in his chest migrate down to his crotch. “How about we put that couch to better use?”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> New warning for character death, heed it

“Firmus, are you awake?” The bed sagged when Veers lowered himself down on it, and Piett pretended not to hear the annoyed, pained grunt that came from Veers due to his knees. Once seated, Veers placed a hand on Piett’s hip and caressed him.

“Yes.” When Piett opened his eyes, Veers’ face was just above his as he leaned in to kiss him. At 93 standard years, Veers’ face and body were deeply wrinkled, the skin soft and pale, and his hair was white. His aging body was succumbing more and more to past injuries too. Nevertheless, Veers was still the most handsome man in the galaxy to Piett.

Veers pulled away to look at him properly, and the look on his face was one of unadulterated love and affection. Piett couldn’t believe he still received that fond look, as if he was the light of Veers’ eyes, older and uglier as Piett had become.

Before Piett could ask him what he was looking at, Veers shuffled to lay down beside him, still running his hand along Piett’s hip, and round his ass to squeeze. Then he put an arm around Piett’s torso, pulling Piett close to his warm, naked body.

Piett was in all honesty too tired for sex. But the sensation of Veers’ skin next to his, the way his warm hand gently caressed his ass and wormed its way to the crease, and Veers’ cock poking at his thigh send a surge of warm, pleasant heat through him, and his own cock stirred.

“I was almost asleep, you know,” Piett said drily between languid kisses.

“Too tired for sex? You really have become an old man,” Veers teased. He pulled back, leaving Piett half-aroused and exposed to the cold when his back was uncovered as Veers pulled the blanket with him.

“You berk,” Piett hissed. With goosebumps already forming on his back, he moved back under the covers and back to Veers’ furnace-warm body. Though most of the muscles from Veers’ army days had disappeared, he did not complain when Piett lay atop him. Piett kissed him deeply, rolling his hips forward, grinding himself against Veers’ stomach. He all but moaned in delight when Veers ran his big, warm and calloused hands over his cold back.

Veers opened his mouth and deepened the kiss, touching their tongues together, and closing his eyes, running his hands down to Piett’s ass again and holding each cheek in a firm grip.  
With a final kiss to Veers’ soft lips, Piett let go to run kisses along Veers’ slightly stubbled jaw, to the soft skin of his neck. He slid halfway off Veers, running one of his thumps over Veers’ right nipple, and very lightly over the skin of his chest and side. Veers stifled a laugh, and his muscles pulled tight when Piett brushed a ticklish spot.

Veers’ hands were not idle during this; he let go of Piett’s ass to knead at the sore spot at Piett’s lover back. Piett shamelessly moaned, Veers knew how good it felt to be rubbed there. Piett’s back had worsened over the last ten years, and he was on daily painkillers. He groaned in delight as his sore spot was relieved.

Piett continued to run his hand down Veers’ stomach. Veers had gained a bit of paunch, though heavens help whomever pointed it out, and the skin was soft and winkled there, the flat, muscled abdomen from his heydays long gone. Piett bend stiffly to kiss Veers’ stomach, feeling him stifle a laugh.

Veers ran his fingers over Piett’s all but bald head. Veers’ hair was thin and white, but his hairline had hardly receded, and Piett envied that.

Piett ran his fingers down across Veers’ groin and stroked his cock to full hardness, he shuffled about a bit, and gritted his teeth when a stab of pain went through his back, to take Veers’ cock in his mouth. Veers continued to pleasantly stroke Piett’s head and nape and running his fingers down to Piett’s ass while he sucked him, tongue fluttering and cheeks hollowed until Veers was moaning softly.  
When Veers began rolling his hips up into Piett’s mouth, and he tasted salty precum, he let go of his cock, not wanting it to be over yet, and turned to kiss his mouth.

Veers used the opportunity to reach down and take Piett’s cock firmly in hand, making him exhale forcefully in a little moan when he pumped him a few times, while snaking his other am underneath Piett. He ushered Piett to turn so his back was against Veers’ front, and Piett heard him find the lube from the drawer.

There was no rush in the way Veers gently spread Piett’s arsecheeks with his lubed finger and caressed the outside of his hole. Piett’s ass had lost its firmness from his younger days, but Veers still squeezed it and teased him as he used to.

“Is this ok for your back?” Veers mumbled into his ear between open-mouthed kisses to his jawline. He was making it very difficult for Piett to think clearly with his index finger gently stroking the muscle around his hole to relax it.

Piett spread his legs and rolled back onto the searching finger, not bothering to bite back a moan. “It is fine, Max.” He was not going to give him another chance to accuse him of being too old.  
Veers hummed into his ear to that, and kissed the earlobe before dipping his head and leaving a love bite on his shoulder, just above the collar bone. Veers moved as close as he was able while still fingering him, pressing his broad chest to Piett’s back while he sweetly kissed and licked his neck and shoulder.

Piett reached behind himself to run a hand over Veers’ hip and over to feel his ass. It was still nice though considerably less shapely than before. Veers curled his finger gently inside him and rubbed the little nub, adding a second finger to do scissor-motions in him, stretching him.

“Yes, more, there,” Piett shivered in delight. His cock twitched, prompting him to give it a few much needed strokes with his hand.

Veers continued, adding a second finger, and though his hands did not have the strength they used to, he could still leave Piett panting and yarning for more.  
The tip of Veers’ cock brushed against the top of Piett’s ass and he rolled his hips and shifted to rub against it. “Max come on.” He felt precum on his lower back and rubbed his ass eagerly against Veers, careful not to aggravate his back.

Veers pulled his fingers out and grabbed his own cock, lubing it up and then ambling it into Piett’s lubed entrance. Slowly he rolled his hips forward, breaching the relaxed ring of muscle, as he reached around Piett’s hips to give his cock a few strokes.

The slow rolling motion stimulated him effectively, and the added hand on his cock send a spark up Piett’s spine. The only disadvantage was it was impossible to kiss Veers’ mouth like this.  
Veers kept up the slow but firm pace, going balls-deep with every thrust, and groaning into Piett’s ear, his hand let go of his cock and he ran his fingers over Piett’s slight paunch and up to caress his nipples. 

Sweat was beginning to form on Piett’s back, and Veers was panted hard into his ear, but his skin tingled when it was in contact with Veers and the direct stimulation made precum leak onto the sheet. He was breathing hard himself and his balls tightened, arousal crackling down his spine. “Like that, luv.”

Veers’ thrusts were not as powerful as they used to, but there was still the delicious feeling of skin against skin and the steady rhythm brushing Piett’s prostate, filling him up and stretching him.  
Piett moaned as Veers grabbed his cock again and stroked it, thumbing the tip and spreading precum, continuing the slow, steady roll of his hips. Veers was heavily affected by arthritis, and some days were better than others, his grip was firm, and his calloused skin felt so fucking good rubbing against Piett’s cock.

Veers muttered into his ear, it sounded like ‘I love you’, while he continued the barrage.

Piett grinned breathlessly. “You’re still a sentimental berk,” he panted, but the remark had none of the bite it would have had thirty years earlier. 

Veers growled into his ear, and vengefully thrusted with as much vigor as he was able, completely startling Piett who had to hang on for dear life to the bedsheets. The warm ecstatic joy he felt was swept away when his belly went taut and the desire to come intensified, and all there was left was his throbbing rod and ass.

Piett moaned again and came over Veers’ hand and the sheet, his vision going black for a moment, and he was sure his heart missed several beats. He heard Veers groan into his ear, and felt his cock pulse inside him as Veers came.

They lay gasping for breath for longer than either cared to think about. Piett sagged against Veers’ chest and closed his eyes in pleasure as Veers, after having wiped his hand off, caressed his chest and hip with his warm hand.

Piett turned around on his back to face Veers and raise his head to kiss him, tongues brushing against each other.

Veers let go and lay down on his back, breathing deeply a few times. “Nine hells, I am exhausted.”

“Who’s too old for sex now?” Piett jabbed, he rested his head on Veers’ chest and listened to his fast heartbeat, running his hand over the warm skin and soft hair.

Veers chuckled, “I did all the work.”

Piett didn’t bother replying. He pulled the blanket over them both. The heat of the blanket and Veers’ body combined eased his sore joints. Veers’ chest rose and fell in calm, deep breaths. Piett sighed in contentment, and feeling drowsiness settle in, he could hardly keep his eyes open.

 

  
Piett knew before he opened his eyes: the bed, even the bedroom itself felt a little colder than usual. Veers was still and cooling rapidly, no breath and no heartbeat. There was a blissful little smile on his lips, but his face was purple-white and lifeless.

A heavy feeling settled in Piett’s guts, and a sigh escaped his lips. Sleeping in quietly in his bed at an advanced age was the last way any of them had expected to go. He reached to run his fingertips over Veers' cheek. Veers was an old man, and old men die, he told himself. Piett took Veers’ cold hand, touching the ring on his finger, caressing the soft skin. They’d had almost forty-three years together, more than either had dared hope.

The wedding had been a very small ceremony, more than thirty years previous. Only attended by a few friends, and Piett’s sister who had not died as he’d initially thought. She was still alive. Tough old bugger. Zev had been absent, nobody they could ask knew what he was doing, and neither Piett nor Veers spoke much about him.

Piett’s gaze wandered over Veers face, his closed eyes and lips, the slight stubble on his cheeks. Veers looked so peaceful in death. The hand Piett held was not stiff yet, and he continued caressing it, reluctant to let go. They had seen it coming, Veers especially was getting old. No matter how good the doctors were, old injuries always came back to haunt you. Especially for someone who had put his body through as much as Veers had. Piett was grateful for the luck they had had.

With a tight feeling in his chest, Piett slowly rose from the bed and went to shower, making a face at the pain in his stiff joints and his back. He was sore from their lovemaking the night before. Veers would have teased him, called him an old man, and waited with caff and breakfast ready when Piett emerged from the shower.

A sharp pang ached in Piett’s chest as he walked out of the room. Their pet loth-cat, whom Veers had rescued from a meat vendor almost ten years previous, approached him, snuggling up to his legs and demanding to be fed. Piett leaned down stiffly and ran a hand through the loth-cat’s warm, soft fur, and went instead to the kitchen to obey the orders for food.

The funeral home came and went, taking Veers with them. Piett sat down in the leather chair in the living room, a bottle of whisky and a tumbler on the table. It might be just noon, but his husband had just died so fuck it, he was allowed to drink. 

The whisky had been a present for their last wedding anniversary, and it seemed fitting for this occasion. He took a sip and the liquor burned down to his empty stomach. He took another sip before leaning back into the chair with a sigh. Veers would have liked this whisky.

Maybe he had known. Piett mused, he was not one for superstition, but Veers had made sure they made love, and to say he loved Piett. Piett had not said it back but he knew Veers knew how he felt. Action was worth more than words at any rate. Forty years of partnership. Living together, fighting occasionally, but always making up, great sex to the last night.  
Piett smiled, and his hand shook slightly as he raised the glass and sipped the whisky again. His eyes were wet. The whole flat seemed so cold and empty. Piett always thought it was a stupid cliché, but it was true.

The loth-cat jumped up into his lap, making itself comfortable, and Piett automatically stroked its fur, listening to the uneven purr that filled his ears. It was more Veers’ pet, but Piett would not dream of throwing it out.

Dust particles danced in the sunlight from the living-room windows, “I will miss you, Max,” Piett said. He raised his glass in salute and emptied it.


End file.
